


Complimentary

by Melacka



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, One Shot, Sorry Not Sorry, Very little actual plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 07:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16113479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melacka/pseuds/Melacka
Summary: It started with a compliment.Or, Liz develops a slight obsession with one of Red's ties. One-shot, set vaguely in season 2.





	Complimentary

It started with a compliment.

Liz doesn’t remember how long ago it was, but she distinctly remembered telling Red that she liked his tie. His initial uncontrolled reaction was one of joyful surprise, quickly suppressed and smothered with his usual bland smile and a witty rejoinder. She’d let the moment pass but it had given her pause. She had wondered at the time about what could have caused so much pleasure, convinced as she was that such a simple compliment couldn’t be worth all of that. But she pushed it to the back of her mind, filing it under _Inscrutable Red Behaviour_. It was where she kept all the odd happenings that she told herself she would get to the bottom of one day. It was getting crowded back there.

She was reminded of the incident about a week later when she noticed him wearing the tie again.

She smiled and said, “Nice tie,” as she passed him on the way to the elevator.

“This old thing?” he said, smirking. “Where are you off to?”

“I’m looking for food. It’s quiet in here today and I’m starving.” She held the elevator doors open and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Are you here to give us a case? Liven the place up a little and take away my lunch break?”

“Nothing that can’t wait an hour or two,” he said dismissively as he took a step closer to her. “May I join you?”

She held his gaze for a moment, considering. Not because she had any intention of saying no, more for the pleasure she got from making him wait for once.

“Sure,” she said finally, stepping further into the elevator and taking her hand off the door. “I’d like that.”

* * * * *

The tie had made regular appearances since then. It was quite unusual for Red to repeat any single item of clothing all that often, but he seemed to be doing it deliberately to attract her attention. He wore it so often that even Ressler felt compelled to comment on it.

“Again, Reddington?” Ressler said when Red walked into the Post Office. “Don’t you have about a thousand ties? You’ve worn that one at least three times this month.”

“Why, Donald! I didn’t know you were so observant!” Red replied cheerfully. “You certainly hide it well.”

“Seriously, that your lucky tie or something?”

“I certainly hope so,” Red said suggestively.

Thankfully, Liz was on the other side of the room, so Ressler didn’t notice her flush. Red did, though. He smirked his way through the briefing, catching Liz’s eye at every opportunity and making her blush again and again.

* * * * *

After that, he started wearing it weekly.

She amused herself by only acknowledging it half of the time, and he always seemed unusually sulky when she didn’t. When she did acknowledge it, however, it was always to give a compliment. Sometimes she’d give them casually, not looking at him at all. Sometimes she’d been more direct, maintaining deliberate eye contact while she told him that she loved the colour, the style, the material – whatever came to mind, really. There was only so much she could say about a tie, but she was intrigued to see his reaction to her and was flattered by his interest, no matter how much she tried to deny it to herself. What had started out as an innocent remark had gradually spiralled to the point where she looked forward to him wearing the damn tie purely so she could compliment him on it.

Liz knew that this was building towards some kind of inevitable conclusion. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for it. She didn’t know if she wanted to continue as they had been, or if she wanted something more from him, but the uncertainty was becoming unsettling. She’d been trying to subtly give him some signals that she was open to _something else_ , without actually committing to what that _something_ was. She was aware that subtlety was not her strong suit and had noticed that Red seemed determined to misinterpret her overtures as mere professional courtesy or friendly banter. She didn’t know if he wanted her to make the first move, if he’d even be open to it, or if he had no idea what she was driving at. She eventually decided that she needed to find ways to be more obvious about it and had just been considering employing a blunt instrument of some kind, applied liberally to his thick skull.

And then she got injured.

* * * * *

Liz and Ressler had been chasing down a lead through an abandoned warehouse when one of the Blacklister’s cronies had slammed into her from the side. She’d gone down hard, earning an impressive array of cuts and bruises, as well as a badly-sprained ankle. Ressler had to carry her back to the car and take her to the hospital, where she submitted to the doctor’s attentions and Ressler’s gentle teasing with as much patience as she could muster. Cooper had sternly told her to take all the time she needed to recover as the rest of the team worked to catch the Blacklister. She’d agreed begrudgingly, but only after failing to walk across her bedroom without needing to take a rest. When Aram came to visit her, she asked him to bring her some work to keep her occupied while she was in exile.

A few days into her recovery, Liz was unsuccessfully trying to ignore the pain in her ankle and make some headway in her disturbingly high pile of paperwork when there was a knock at her door. She checked the time on her phone and made an educated guess as to who was on the other side. She dialled Red’s number and a second later heard a phone ring.

“Lizzy?”

“Red, are you alone?”

“Yes, why?”

“Is Dembe there?”

“No, I’m alone,” Red said impatiently. “Lizzy, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just pick the lock, will you?”

“What?”

“Don’t sound so scandalised, Red,” Liz said, starting to get annoyed. “I’ve sprained my ankle and have no intention of getting up unnecessarily. If you want to come in, pick the lock.”

She hung up the phone and waited with interest to see what he would do. A few moments later, the door swung open silently and Red strolled into the room.

“Impressive,” she said, smiling in greeting. “I knew you were doing it and I still didn’t hear a thing.”

“I may have done that once or twice before,” Red said with faux modesty, removing his hat and looking at her with concern. “Why were you asking if Dembe was with me?”

“Dembe has a key for emergencies,” Liz said simply, gesturing Red towards the armchair nearest her position on the sofa.

“Why does Dembe have a key and I don’t?” Red asked indignantly.

“Emergencies,” Liz repeated calmly. “Besides, how often would you be coming here without me or Dembe?” Red didn’t answer, and Liz narrowed her eyes in sudden suspicion. “Red?”

“Let’s not get caught up in those unimportant details right now, Lizzy,” he said breezily, moving towards the chair she’d indicated. “I’m here to enquire after your health.”

“My health?”

“Yes, I hear nothing from you for nearly a week and then I find out you have been grievously injured.”

“Grievously injured?” Liz scoffed.

“You must learn to show some consideration, Lizzy,” Red continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Oh really?” Liz said, beginning to get annoyed.

“Yes. I was beginning to worry that—”

He stopped talking abruptly and looked away.

Liz paused in the middle of forming furious counter-arguments in her head and looked at him with surprise. He didn’t speak for a moment and wouldn’t look at her.

“Red?” she said gently. “What were you worried about?”

“You, Lizzy,” he said, clearly hoping to change the subject. “Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Red—”

“Not working too hard?”

“I—”

“Eating lots of good meals, I hope.”

“Well—”

“Resting that ankle?”

“Red!” Liz cried in exasperation. “Stop trying to dodge the question, will you? Ignore your instinct to keep all pertinent information from me for just a few minutes and tell me what you were worried about.”

“I should go,” he said after a moment of agitated silence.

Liz held out an imploring hand to stop him from moving.

“Red, please,” she said quietly. “I can’t chase after you right now.”

“Would you chase after me?” he said in obvious surprise.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

He didn’t say anything as he took her hand in his.

“Red?”

“Lizzy.”

“Why were you worried?”

“I thought that perhaps you were trying to avoid me.”

“Avoid you?” she said in surprise. “Why would I try to avoid you?”

“There is precedent,” Red said wryly. “You haven’t always been particularly welcoming of my presence.”

“Well, yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “But recently, I’ve been very happy to see you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, don’t pretend you didn’t notice.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

“I may have sensed a _slight_ change in your demeanour, yes.”

She lobbed a cushion at him with her free hand and laughed out loud when it hit him squarely in the face. He let go of her hand and tutted at her.

“Lizzy, violence is never the answer.”

Liz just laughed even louder at that and he smiled in response.

“Seriously, though,” she said a moment later. “I’m glad you came here tonight.”

She glanced down as she spoke, aware that a blush was spreading inexorably across her cheeks.

Red reached out to take her hand again and waited until she looked at him.

“Please, be honest with me,” he said seriously. “Is it just because of the tie?”

She glanced down and noticed his tie for the first time.

“Mainly,” she said, matching his serious tone. “But there was also the irresistible temptation of avoiding paperwork.”

He grimaced slightly at that and leaned back in his chair. She enjoyed the silence for a moment before she remembered her manners.

“Would you like something to drink? I think I have some wine. Possibly something stronger.”

She started shifting her papers around as she spoke, preparing to stand up. Red stood up quickly and looked at her in mild alarm.

“Don’t get up, Lizzy. Allow me.”

She ignored him and stood up slowly, balancing on one foot to keep the weight off her sore ankle and wincing a little, in spite of all her efforts to appear unaffected.

“At least let me help you, Lizzy.”

“You wanna call Dembe?” she teased.

“I am perfectly capable,” Red said, sounding affronted. “Just ignore your instinct to refuse all assistance from me and let me help you.”

She laughed at that and held out a hand for him to take. He draped her hand around his shoulder and quickly swept her up into his arms before she could stop him.

“Red!”

“Don’t sound so scandalised, Lizzy.”

“You don’t need to _carry_ me, Red,” she said, embarrassed. “Put me down and just help me limp over.”

“No.”

“Red—”

“Humour me, Lizzy.”

He walked casually towards her kitchen, seemingly in no hurry at all. Liz leaned her head against his shoulder, conceding defeat. She traced her fingers along his tie, smiling.

“Nice tie.”

“Thank you,” he murmured. “It’s my favourite.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yes. I only wear it for special occasions now.”

“I’m honoured,” Liz said dramatically. “What makes this occasion special, then?”

“I am with you, Elizabeth.”

Liz couldn’t think of anything to say to that and so just stared at him slightly stupidly until they reached her kitchen.

“Where would you like me to set you down?”

“What?” she said, flustered.

“Where would you like to sit, Lizzy?”

Liz wanted to say that she was quite comfortable where she was but decided against it. She gestured wordlessly towards the counter and he lifted her onto it. He lingered close to her as she removed her arm from around his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“My pleasure.”

He still didn’t move. He was looking at her intently and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes darted down to his lips and she was sure he noticed. He always noticed.

Deciding to take a chance, she gently trailed her fingers down his tie again.

“I like this tie.”

“Yes, so you’ve mentioned,” he said, voice dropping low.

“Why do you wear it so often now, Red?” she murmured, still tracing gentle patterns over it. “Is it your lucky tie?”

He caught her hand in his and drew it up to his lips to place a tender kiss on the back and then on the palm. He continued to kiss his way slowly up her hand, past the scar on her wrist and further upwards. She sighed in pleasure and he smirked.

“I certainly hope so.”

He stopped kissing her hand and brought it to rest gently against his chest.

“And just what did you think you needed luck for tonight?” she asked breathlessly.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“And I thought that a little luck would not go astray.”

“Oh, really?” she said, her heart pounding so hard she was surprised it wasn’t audible. “And what was that?”

She had been staring at her hand on his chest, it seemed to have acquired a mind of its own and she was fascinated by the way it moved across his suit jacket. But now she raised her eyes to his and sucked in a breath at the look on his face.

_Desire_. Unmistakable. Delicious. _Irresistible_ desire.

“Lizzy,” he said, drawing the sound of her name out slowly.

She moved her hands from his chest up to cup his face, then leaned in slowly to press a tentative kiss to his neck, just above his shirt collar.

“What did you want to ask me?” she breathed against his skin and she trailed a line of kisses up toward his ear.

“I—”

He broke off with a shudder as she nibbled his earlobe gently.

“Yes?”

“I wanted to ask you to join me—”

Liz smirked as his voice trailed away again, this time in reaction to her dropping featherlight kisses across his jawline.

“Join you where?” Liz said huskily, thoroughly enjoying herself. She nuzzled her nose gently against his and repeated, “Join you where, Red?”

“Lizzy,” he groaned, clutching at her arms. “Please.”

“I’m listening, Red,” she insisted seriously. “Join you where?”

She leaned back from him completely and watched, fascinated, as he regained his composure. After a few moments, he looked at her with a classic Reddington smirk.

“Would you join me for dinner sometime?”

Liz stared at him in shock for a moment and then brought her hand up to her mouth, desperately trying to stop her laughter from bubbling up. Red raised an eyebrow in amusement but said nothing, just waited for her to answer him.

“Yes,” she gasped eventually, her eyes still dancing with laughter. “I will gladly join you for dinner.” She paused meaningfully. “Sometime.”

She brought her hands around either side of his head and interlaced her fingers, gently urging him closer to her. He tentatively brought his hands to rest on her back and she smiled in approval.

“Red.”

“Yes, Lizzy?”

“I would very much like to kiss you.”

His eyebrows shot up in shock. She revelled in the feeling of power, the knowledge that she could affect him like this.

“So, if you have any objections, now would be the time,” she continued calmly.

“You don’t want to go out?” he teased, leaning in even further.

“Not right now, Red,” she said, her lips so close to his they were almost touching. “Right now, I’d like to stay in.”

“Perfectly understandable.”

“I am grievously injured, after all.”

“True. You must prioritise your health, Lizzy.”

“Absolutely. But, if we’re not going out,” she lightly scratched her fingernails against the back of his head and smiled when his eyes closed involuntarily, “we’ll need to find something to pass the time in here.”

“Hmm.”

“Any ideas?”

 Red grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a bit of an experiment aimed at getting me back in the habit of writing again. It went in a slightly different direction than I originally planned, but hopefully it still works.
> 
> Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read/leave kudos/comment. I always appreciate it so much!


End file.
